


Prince Charming (Not Quite)

by Gleaming_Spires (cuppaktea)



Category: History Boys (2006), History Boys - All Media Types, History Boys - Bennett
Genre: Crack, Descriptions of Godawful 80s fashions, Fluff and Crack, Isolation has got to my brain, Just for lulz, M/M, OOCness, pure nonsense and silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:42:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23564002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuppaktea/pseuds/Gleaming_Spires
Summary: It’s Posner’s birthday and the boys are going out out, and Dakin believes that ridicule is nothing to be scared of
Relationships: David Posner/Donald Scripps, Stuart Dakin/Tom Irwin
Comments: 13
Kudos: 15





	Prince Charming (Not Quite)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stuartdakins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuartdakins/gifts).



> This ridiculousness came out of a HC chat with Stuartdakins that got stuck in my brain, so it's gifted to him - hope it gives you a giggle, lovely xx
> 
> It was only supposed to be about 500 words - oops, and has the same amount of plot as if it were, and is obviously OOC but I hope you enjoy reading it as much as we enjoyed thinking it up (and I enjoyed writing it). 
> 
> If you like, drop me some love below and you'll make my day Xx

“Tom, come on, please”

“I don’t want to”

He flinches away from the large rounded makeup brush Dakin is brandishing

“How can you come to the gay club otherwise?”

He crosses his arms, defensively. “I reckon I meet the requirements”

“Not on Glam and New Romantics night you don’t” Stu stands back and regards him critically, hands on his hips. “You’ll look silly”

Tom looks him up and down in return, taking in the back-combed hair, bright pink blusher and blue and red eye shadow which adorns the space between his exaggerated eyebrows and elaborately winged eyeliner. There’s barely an inch of his face that isn’t plastered in neon colour.

“You’re always saying how hot David Bowie is as Ziggy Stardust”

“Actually, that’s you”

“Yeah but you agree with me, now hold still”

Tom can’t argue there, but he can snatch away the lipstick that Stu is trying to assault him with

Stu tuts as Tom secretes it into the chest of drawers behind him.

“Well, you can’t go like that!”

He glances down at his choice of jeans and a polo shirt. Admittedly, it’s a bit on the conservative side, but he just doesn’t feel comfortable flaunting himself the way Stu and his friends do. On the other hand, if Stuart is, by some miracle, correct, he will look conspicuous as he is, and the thought is almost as unappealing as dressing up like a bargain bin David Bowie impersonator.

Like a shark, Stu senses weakness in the air. “It’s Posner’s big two –one don’t be a party pooper. At least let me do something with your hair?”

Tom considers for a minute. “Ok, fine, but nothing crazy”

Grinning dangerously, Stu leads him into the bathroom and produces an alarming selection of brushes and combs.

He really ought to have learned by now, he thinks with a sinking feeling as a hand on his shoulder pushes him to sit on the side of the bath.

Once Stu begins however, Tom is inclined to think he made too much fuss, the sensation of someone touching his hair is weirdly relaxing, but the gentle brushing doesn’t last long.

“I can’t believe that Scripps agreed to this – Ow!”

“Sorry. Scripps knows what’s good for him”

“He’s a masochist more like”

“It’s Posner’s birthday so he has to really. It’ll be a laugh. It’s our tradition – Posner’s and mine. We used to go every week in first year before we got hit hard by deadlines” He smiles wistfully.

“I thought it was tomorrow?”

“Yeah but Scripps doesn’t want us around tomorrow – he told me so in no uncertain terms. He’s probably planned something horribly tasteful for them... Ugh. Why. Won't. Your. Hair. Stay. Up?” He grunts, tugging roughly at the strands with a comb.

“It’s a defence mechanism. Ow! Stop it, would you?”

He slaps Tom’s hands away from his painful scalp and walks around him appraisingly. “It’ll do I suppose. This would work better if you had a moustache”

“Oh Christ, you’ve turned into Felix – Felix in eyeliner!”

“Not an old man moustache, idiot. A gay moustache”

“I don’t really have the look to work the leather scene - Stuart, no!”

He pouts. “Spoilsport. You’re perfect for New Romantic though, you’ve got that sickly look – what?”

“Fuck off, is what”

“If you don’t know how to take a compliment…At least let me do some blusher on you, you’d look gorgeous”

“Just a bit then, if you promise that then you’ll shut up”

“Great, close your eyes”

“Er… must I?”

“You don’t want to get powder in them do you?” Stu asks with a degree of wide-eyed innocence Tom didn’t even know he was capable of.

“I…. suppose not” It does sound vaguely plausible on the surface, and before he can question it, Stuart has vanished away his glasses.

The brushes tickle but, once he gets over that it’s nice actually - he blames this for letting his guard down. Something cold touches his mouth, startling him to attention and awakening his suspicions.

“Stu?”

“Shhh, it’ll look nice I promise”

A pencil scratches at the edge of one eye, then the other.

“What are you doing?”

“Stay still. Nearly done… there. Gorgeous. Right, I won’t be a minute, just going to get changed” And with that, he darts into the bedroom before Tom can blink his eyes open

“Where are my glasses? Stuart?”

“Challenge for you.” He calls back “Treasure hunt”

“Oh, fuck you” Tom can’t help but laugh.

“Yes, please” The grin is noticeable from the bedroom.

“Little shit”

He eventually finds them hidden among bottles of hair products and makes a beeline for the mirror.

“Oh. God.”

It is much worse than he’d feared.

For once grateful for his naturally fine and unstylable hair, he manages to flatten it fairly easily - it helps that Stu didn’t put any spray on, despite there being enough of the stuff in the air that he’ll be tasting it all night.

The makeup isn’t so easy. A quick wash with warm water does nothing but blur the bright pink blusher and blue eyeshadow together. Soap seems like a good plan until he rubs some into his eyes.

The cursing attracts Stu, who is now in a crop top that shows off a lot of belly above tight wet-look trousers. A large clip on lightning bolt dangles from one of his ears. Even without his glasses and with soap in his eyes, Tom can tell it looks awful.

“Tom! The fuck? You were all prettied up”

“I looked like a seventeenth century prostitute.” He grits out “A skint one.”

“You looked like me”

“Exactly”

“Ungrateful”

“Please just tell me how I get it off” He groans, scrubbing at the pink lipgloss (and smearing it across more of his face in the process).

Stu shakes his head, disappointed. “Sex wipes”

“Please don’t call them that”

“Well, ‘baby wipes’ is just creepy considering we –“

“Yes, OK!”

It’s a good tip, he manages to wipe his face mostly clean, although the wipes sting and make his skin go pink and blotchy. The eyeliner proves more stubborn than the rest, but on second thoughts he decides he quite likes it anyway, and pencils it back in, sneakily. He can always say he couldn’t get it off.

Stu is waiting for him in the bedroom, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Right,” He gestures towards a mountain of clothes piled on his narrow bed. “what are you going to wear?”

Tom glances down at himself.

“That won’t do! They won’t let you in”

“You know, I was going to gay bars before your voice broke”

Stu coughs the word ‘old’

Tom narrows his eyes. “I think I’ll manage without your help, thanks all the same.”

“It wasn’t Glam and New Romantic night then though, was it? No, it was the seventies and everyone looked shit anyway”

“Charming, especially coming from Pat Butcher here”

“Look, unless you’re prepared to show me those pictures of you in flares that I know are around somewhere, then I’m in charge of wardrobe”

“I hate you”

“Oookay, so the choice is open shirt –“

“No”

“ - and silk trousers-"

“I can’t borrow your trousers. My legs are a lot longer than yours”

“A bit longer. But it’s ok they work rolled up too”

“Absolutely not”

“Could you try and be positive?” Stu sighs, exasperated. “If you must wear jeans then how about a mesh top?”

He holds one up against Tom. It doesn’t look too horrible.

“With what?”

“Leather jacket?”

“…underneath?”

“Nothing underneath”

“Honestly? I would rather be naked”

“Oh, now there’s an idea”

With a noise that’s half growl, half giggle, Stu tackles him, biting at his neck while warm hands swiftly work their way under his shirt, tickling as they pull it over his head.

Tom gasps for air over his laughter.

“Not such a Negative Nelly now are you?” He grins, triumphant from his seat on Tom’s stomach “Going to play along, or what?”

“Mmmm ‘what’, please” He gasps through his laughter, bucking his hips up.

There’s a knock at the door.

Stu rolls off him with a groan. “Fuck. Off.”

Tom hastily pulls his t-shirt back on and straightens his glasses as a grumbling Stuart goes to open it.

“Trust you to turn up just when you’re not wanted”

Used to Dakin, Posner and Scripps ignore the grumpy greeting as they pile into the tiny room.

Looking at Posner, Tom assumes that Stuart was aiming for something similar. His hair is in a fluffy blue-dyed halo round his face and he’s wearing vaguely regency makeup along with a baggy ruffled shirt and leather trousers, which make him look a bit like a highwayman. Behind him, Scripps is looking sheepish in jeans, a denim jacket and a blue shirt that also looks as though it might be denim.

“You two ready yet?”

“What sins have you committed with my eye shadows?” Pos grabs Stu’s chin and turns his face to the light.

Stuart ignores him and glares at Tom’s unaltered outfit. “Really? You weren’t serious about wearing that were you?”

“I am.” He folds his arms with a grin, finally safe now they have company “Happy birthday, David.”

“Thank you. Dakin, You do realise there isn’t just supposed to be a red line of eyeshadow across the middle of your face? And you should blend the colours above the eye together rather than just putting them on in stripes?”

“What do you mean?”

“Sit” Pos commands, working away quickly to produce something a little less clown-like out of his look.

“Trust you not to clean my brushes” He tuts, inspecting them. “Wet wipes?”

“Drawer by the bed”

“I’ll get them” Tom squeaks, his cheeks heating up.

“Oh, honestly, Tom” Stu drawls “we’re all adults, no one’s going to be shocked by the sex drawer”

“Please don’t test that theory eh?” Scripps backs towards the door while Pos continues to tut and sigh as he cleans up Dakin’s face.

“Do you reckon my trainers are alright?” Scripps asks, scuffing his feet on the carpet.

“They aren’t great” Dakin gives his white shoes a sideways look before Pos taps him on the chin with a brush

“Stop wriggling”

“I meant do you reckon they’ll still let me in, dickhead”

“Don’t see why not. What do you think, Tom?”

He pauses in clearing the multitude of clothes and makeup off the bed.

“No idea”

“You were the one boasting about how you were going to gay clubs when us lot were all in nappies.”

“Creepy,” Scripps mutters.

“Not what I said, also, incidentally, untrue.”

Dakin waves his hand. “Details. The point is, you’re the one saying you’ve been to lots of gay nights before. You ought to be the expert.”

“‘Lots’ might be an exaggeration. Maybe a couple. Never a cheesy glam rock night though, just normal ones with drinking and music.”

“…Are you sure these weren’t just normal bars?”

“I went to pick up men, so if they were then I was very lucky”

“Sorry, you expect us to believe you pulled? Dressed like you’re off to a family barbeque?”

“OK, best I can do.” Posner closes his makeup case with a snap “Scrippsy, your shoes are fine. Dakin, for my birthday I would like no fighting, please.”

“I’m just saying: obviously, I think Tom is lovely, but I do not believe he got any sex going clubbing dressed in something my mum could’ve picked out, even if it was the seventies.”

“And you’re not going to get any tonight if you’re not careful” Tom smiles sweetly.

Scripps rubs his temples. “Please can we all just agree that everyone can wear what they want and then just go out before I have to obliterate this conversation from my mind with an ill-advised quantity of vodka?”

“In a minute.” Pos clears his throat. “Ground rules before Akthar and Rudge get here”

“Ooh, rules: fun!” Stu flops down on the newly cleared bed.

“You have to dance – Scripps; No wandering off into back alleys to be beaten up, no matter how badly you need a wee – Dakin; and no touching the lesbians – also Dakin. We do NOT want a repeat of last time”

“Although you deserved it” Scripps sniggers.

“That was a simple misunderstanding”

“It looked painful”

“I’m taken now anyway,” He smiles cheekily up at Tom. “the girls are safe. Unless I mistake one of them for Tom”

“Dakin” Scripps warns.

“Fine, it’s an opportunity sorely wasted, is all!”

At that moment Akthar arrives, in a pink leopard-print jacket with enormous shoulder pads that make his head look tiny, black lace gloves, and his hair spiked into points. There’s a wide white stripe across his face like Adam Ant and glitter stars decorating the space around his eyes.

“Am I the only one who’s made an effort here?” He grins, handing Pos a card. “Happy birthday mate”

Rudge follows him a second later in a checked shirt and jeans.

“Dressed up did you, Rudge?”

“Yes.” He nods, shrugging at Stuart’s laughter.

He gives Tom a friendly shoulder bump. “Alright, Sir? Looks like we’re the only normal looking ones”

Tom winces - the one time he actually should have listened to Stu.

“Please don’t call me ‘sir’, Rudge, especially not when we get there”

“Yeah Rudge, only I get to call Tom ‘Sir’ these days”

“Stuart!”

He grins.

As they head out, Tom hangs back with Stu, laying a hand on his lower back for the briefest moment. “I’ll let you dress me up later if you are very, very good” he murmurs in his ear.

“Will you let me feel you up on the dance floor?”

He rolls his eyes. “When don’t I?”

“Happy Posner’s birthday to me”

**Author's Note:**

> Do yourself a favour and search google images for '80s gay fashion'. All I'm saying is crop tops for men. You are welcome.
> 
> (Edit: No, I can't imagine Irwin going to a gay club to pick up men either, but I needed an excuse to take the piss out of him. HC It happened precisely once after a particularly upsetting break up and culminated in a successful one night stand, after which he was too embarrassed to ever do it again)


End file.
